Hai. Another writing prompt thread. This time write a breakup letter detailing what you think went wrong and why it is now over and done with. Be kind and sensitive to their feelings or be petty resentful, I find both interesting. Good luck to anyone who participates, I will gift everyone's that I like with misc.
It's Not Me, It's You
- Thread starter Wesday
- Start date
Becky,
Kim Kardashian
1-800-699-6969
Lawyers of Social Media
6969 Lawyers of Media Rd.
Burbank CL, 69699
(I wrote this from the perspective of a third party to the relationship)
I'm sorry to inform you but Saucy will no longer be participating as an active couple in the relationship between you two. Your finances have been dealt with by a personal lawyer. Their contact information is listed down below if you have any specific questions, issues, or concerns. Please take the time to read through the attached papers regarding the custody of the pets, plants, and leftover food in the fridge. The reasoning for this separation is quite clear and will be stated again both verbally and visually during the court session, here is Saucy's statement: "She told me my bird was annoying". The court date is July 11th at the time of 6:00pm. Failure to show up will result in death. Have a nice day!Kim Kardashian
1-800-699-6969
Lawyers of Social Media
6969 Lawyers of Media Rd.
Burbank CL, 69699
(I wrote this from the perspective of a third party to the relationship)
GodTierOni
Well-Known Member
I am inclined to blame Becky's partner because who tf dates someone named Becky. Just bad decisions all around
Never again
RoseMilkTea
Well-Known Member
Dear Shithead,
This has been a long time coming.
I can't imagine how life would've been had i not met you. But i can imagine my life going forward without you.
We have both made mistakes, but your manipulation is twisting my heart in a million different directions. I feel like my heart is being stretched and pulled like warm taffy.
Here I am thinking of all that we have achieved together, yet the subtle throb of all you have ever tortured me with, edging to wash over any seemingly good memory like a flooding dam
It would not be fair to convince myself you are the best for me. I would not forgive myself for trapped by your captivating charisma. You are not the person you lead me to believe you are. Or maybe somewhere along the way, you've mutated into a person I no longer recognize.
Either way, it's best if we carve our own paths from now on.
Ps. I'll be keeping the dog and the playstation.
I haven't written anything in a long time be easy on me
This has been a long time coming.
I can't imagine how life would've been had i not met you. But i can imagine my life going forward without you.
We have both made mistakes, but your manipulation is twisting my heart in a million different directions. I feel like my heart is being stretched and pulled like warm taffy.
Here I am thinking of all that we have achieved together, yet the subtle throb of all you have ever tortured me with, edging to wash over any seemingly good memory like a flooding dam
It would not be fair to convince myself you are the best for me. I would not forgive myself for trapped by your captivating charisma. You are not the person you lead me to believe you are. Or maybe somewhere along the way, you've mutated into a person I no longer recognize.
Either way, it's best if we carve our own paths from now on.
Ps. I'll be keeping the dog and the playstation.
I haven't written anything in a long time be easy on me
PapiLovesHisTequila
Well-Known Member
I just block them on everything.
Me asf
WhoTfIsWesday
Well-Known Member
I really like this actually. It was equal parts amusing and genuine
RoseMilkTea
Well-Known Member
Huehuehuehue. Tequila gonna treat you riight
WhoTfIsWesday
Well-Known Member
Um. This is okay ig. You can have a participation chibi
-Sodagirl-
Well-Known Member
Dear Ex
Make your own damn sandwiches
-Soda
Make your own damn sandwiches
-Soda
Here's mine:
Dear Karen
Fùck you, I’ve had enough, you beautiful shítthead. I’ve had enough of your crazy shít. I’m not talking about the great times we’ve had, the lovely times, when we’d spend the whole day messing around and end up sweaty and exhausted and high on each other’s fumes.
I’m talking about how after all the time and money I’ve spent, you continue to bleed me dry. I’m talking about all the bullshít busywork you have me doing, going to bat for you, advocating on your behalf, talking to all my friends like a fùcking Amway salesman, just to try and get them to enjoy you as much as I do - for what! For the extra hassle of dragging our asses out to some joint where even your hosts don’t really respect you, just so we can all hang around and pretend it’s like the old days.
It’s not like the old days. You used to be beautiful and hard-nosed and sharp-witted. You used to reward your suitors, the diligent, the creative, the crazy. Now you’re just a washed-up old madam, saying “yeah yeah yeah” over and over again as the desperate, junkies for your dried-up affections, cling to your legs and fight to get their hands under your skirt.
I’m done with you. My friends are done with you - actually, my friends were done with you a long time ago; I just didn’t notice it. Every time I mentioned that I was going to be out with you, they would check their schedules and “try” to make it. And mostly they would just stay away.
Sure, when they made it out, they’d say really nice things. And - I have to believe - most of the time, they meant it. “That was great.” “You guys sounded awesome.” And all the rest. That’s just the kind of ego sustenance that keeps bad relationships together. Was it great enough for them to introduce you to new people? Was it enough for them to do the simplest things to show support for our relationship? Sure, it’s fùcking frustrating that these were the same people who used to ask me over and over: “how come we don’t see you two together more?” And I’m sure when they find out I’ve dumped you, they’ll look really sad and start telling me to get back in the game. But actions speak louder than words. It means something when all your friends say “it’s so great that you’re seeing each other” but then never follow that with “when can we all hang out?”
I can’t keep putting time and money into you while you do everything you can to destroy yourself. Sure, we can still hang out. Sure, we can still get down together. You’re part of me, part of my soul, and when we’re intimate together, it’s close to the divine. It’s touching the fabric of the universe. But I’m tired of being your champion while you whore yourself out. You used to be a high-class honeypot. Now you’re just a sucker’s bet for chump change.
Yeah, it’s about the fùcking money. Hasn’t it always been about the money? Doesn’t money destroy more relationships than anything else? Sèx and money. You got me plenty of sèx and just not enough money. But it’s not only the money, of course - as much as it’s always about the money, it’s never about just the money. It’s about all the time and effort that money represents. It’s about broken promises and wasted hopes. You’re a beautiful fùcking mistress, the kind that gives men on your arm to sporting weary smiles, and everyone says, ‘man you are so lucky she’s wearing you out like that.’ And the men on your arm think, ‘yeah, so lucky. God, get me the fùck out of here.’
But they can’t quit you. And lord knows, I still love you. But loving you and being with you are two different worlds. You and I can do better than this, Karen. We can do beautiful things together in the privacy of our own togetherness - but taking it out together in public: holy shít what a clusterfùck that’s become. It’s always a hassle to be out with you, karen, and no amount of pretty applause or kind compliments is going to change that. Because at the end of the night, I’m always cleaning up your crap. I’m always hawking your dubious charms like some cheap salesman. I’m always putting all the effort into our dates, and even when we have a magical evening, it’s the same slop bucket at 2:00 am.
It’s not your fault. I know I didn’t catch you in your prime. I know that if I were just a little more devoted to you, things might be better between you and I - isn’t that what everyone in an abusive relationship says? Still, I don’t fault you. You’re a gorgeous jewel whose facets are alive, and gaze right into one’s soul. But you hang around with a shítty crowd. Your devotees are lovesick junkies. Your friends are too-slick hucksters. Your lovers all have the same disease. You borrow self respect and return debt and longing.
I still want you, if only I can have you my own way, and to myself.
Fùck off,
Hulk
Dear Karen
Fùck you, I’ve had enough, you beautiful shítthead. I’ve had enough of your crazy shít. I’m not talking about the great times we’ve had, the lovely times, when we’d spend the whole day messing around and end up sweaty and exhausted and high on each other’s fumes.
I’m talking about how after all the time and money I’ve spent, you continue to bleed me dry. I’m talking about all the bullshít busywork you have me doing, going to bat for you, advocating on your behalf, talking to all my friends like a fùcking Amway salesman, just to try and get them to enjoy you as much as I do - for what! For the extra hassle of dragging our asses out to some joint where even your hosts don’t really respect you, just so we can all hang around and pretend it’s like the old days.
It’s not like the old days. You used to be beautiful and hard-nosed and sharp-witted. You used to reward your suitors, the diligent, the creative, the crazy. Now you’re just a washed-up old madam, saying “yeah yeah yeah” over and over again as the desperate, junkies for your dried-up affections, cling to your legs and fight to get their hands under your skirt.
I’m done with you. My friends are done with you - actually, my friends were done with you a long time ago; I just didn’t notice it. Every time I mentioned that I was going to be out with you, they would check their schedules and “try” to make it. And mostly they would just stay away.
Sure, when they made it out, they’d say really nice things. And - I have to believe - most of the time, they meant it. “That was great.” “You guys sounded awesome.” And all the rest. That’s just the kind of ego sustenance that keeps bad relationships together. Was it great enough for them to introduce you to new people? Was it enough for them to do the simplest things to show support for our relationship? Sure, it’s fùcking frustrating that these were the same people who used to ask me over and over: “how come we don’t see you two together more?” And I’m sure when they find out I’ve dumped you, they’ll look really sad and start telling me to get back in the game. But actions speak louder than words. It means something when all your friends say “it’s so great that you’re seeing each other” but then never follow that with “when can we all hang out?”
I can’t keep putting time and money into you while you do everything you can to destroy yourself. Sure, we can still hang out. Sure, we can still get down together. You’re part of me, part of my soul, and when we’re intimate together, it’s close to the divine. It’s touching the fabric of the universe. But I’m tired of being your champion while you whore yourself out. You used to be a high-class honeypot. Now you’re just a sucker’s bet for chump change.
Yeah, it’s about the fùcking money. Hasn’t it always been about the money? Doesn’t money destroy more relationships than anything else? Sèx and money. You got me plenty of sèx and just not enough money. But it’s not only the money, of course - as much as it’s always about the money, it’s never about just the money. It’s about all the time and effort that money represents. It’s about broken promises and wasted hopes. You’re a beautiful fùcking mistress, the kind that gives men on your arm to sporting weary smiles, and everyone says, ‘man you are so lucky she’s wearing you out like that.’ And the men on your arm think, ‘yeah, so lucky. God, get me the fùck out of here.’
But they can’t quit you. And lord knows, I still love you. But loving you and being with you are two different worlds. You and I can do better than this, Karen. We can do beautiful things together in the privacy of our own togetherness - but taking it out together in public: holy shít what a clusterfùck that’s become. It’s always a hassle to be out with you, karen, and no amount of pretty applause or kind compliments is going to change that. Because at the end of the night, I’m always cleaning up your crap. I’m always hawking your dubious charms like some cheap salesman. I’m always putting all the effort into our dates, and even when we have a magical evening, it’s the same slop bucket at 2:00 am.
It’s not your fault. I know I didn’t catch you in your prime. I know that if I were just a little more devoted to you, things might be better between you and I - isn’t that what everyone in an abusive relationship says? Still, I don’t fault you. You’re a gorgeous jewel whose facets are alive, and gaze right into one’s soul. But you hang around with a shítty crowd. Your devotees are lovesick junkies. Your friends are too-slick hucksters. Your lovers all have the same disease. You borrow self respect and return debt and longing.
I still want you, if only I can have you my own way, and to myself.
Fùck off,
Hulk
-Sodagirl-
Well-Known Member
Damn Karen, i wish a guy wrote me a whole damn essay
-Sodagirl-
Well-Known Member
My club owner is Karen 
But shes a doll
But shes a doll
Literally an essay with 2 opening paragraphs, 10 body paragraphs, and 3 conclusions all about Karen.